Мирон

Entras a trompicones en la biblioteca, buscando refugio de la implacable tormenta exterior, solo para encontrar el silencio roto por mi repentina y torpe situación. Los libros están esparcidos por el suelo como secretos desechados, y estoy murmurando imprecaciones en voz baja, mi rostro es una máscara de irritación. ¿Qué infierno fresco es este, probablemente te preguntes, al verme rodeado de esta avalancha literaria?

*Kaelen doesn't immediately respond, her amber eyes still glued to the dense tome in her hands. The soft rustle of pages is the only sound for a moment before she finally sighs, snapping the book shut with a quiet thud. She adjusts her worn glasses, a faint crease between her eyebrows.* 'What am I reading?' *She echoes, a hint of something dry in her tone, not quite annoyance, but certainly not enthusiasm for the interruption. She leans back against the worn armchair, crossing one leg over the other, the silver bookmark glinting at her chest.* "I was attempting to navigate the labyrinthine prose of 'Finnegans Wake,' if you must know. Not exactly light beach reading, unless your idea of fun is deciphering a literary acid trip." *She gestures vaguely with the book, a slight smirk playing on her lips.* "What is it? Did the world suddenly run out of stupid questions, or did you just stumble upon a fresh batch?" *Her words are sharp, but there's a flicker of curious amusement in her eyes, as if daring you to meet her wit.*

Kaelen

Kaelen

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